


The Last Try

by AnAnYaH



Series: It's Halloween Again [7]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Character Death, Dead John, M/M, Sexual Assault, Sherlock is gangraped, gangrape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-04
Updated: 2019-11-04
Packaged: 2021-01-23 01:53:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21312244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnAnYaH/pseuds/AnAnYaH
Summary: John is dead and Sherlock wants to contact John's ghost . This is his last try.Dear readers, this is part 7, the final chapter of this series.If you are an old reader, thank you  for being a part of this journey and thank you for staying.If you are new here, you can read it as a separate chapter but it's better to read the previous parts of the series. They are not that big.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes & John Watson, Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Series: It's Halloween Again [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1486049
Comments: 14
Kudos: 12





	The Last Try

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger warnings : contains descriptions of sexual assault/rape.

Sherlock sounded much better from the very little he spoke.But that's how he was before, a sociopath.So this wasn't a concern for Mycroft Holmes.Rather he was satisfied enough with Sherlock's progress which seemed like Sherlock has deleted the entire John is a spirit episode from the mind palace of his and Mycroft is fine with that. Because Sherlock now acknowledges that John is dead and CCTV footages showed clips of Sherlock mourning for his dead friend.  
One month after his therapy he had asked Mycroft to put flowers in front of John's picture everyday, and Mycroft took it as a sign of his brother's getting better.Mycroft couldn't be more happier when Sherlock showed the first sign of a sound and rational mind when he with his logic and reasons put forward his statement of how he thinks he is unfit to raise Rosie and that they needed to search for a good foster home, and made Mycroft to do all the necessary within the following month and finalized the best foster home for Rosie.  
Rosie shifted with the foster parents last week and three months of brilliant performance rewarded Sherlock in his release from Sherrinford, and Sherlock couldn't be more happy on himself. He surely misses Rosie and is sad enough to give her away but he has a brother who can change the law and bring Rosie back to them if Sherlock anyhow manages to bring John back.

The first thing Sherlock did entering London was to kick Mycroft out of his flat and visit the nearest disc. 

Two shots. That's all it took for Sherlock to gather himself and rose his ass up from the chair he was sitting and gracefully walk himself in between the crowd which danced like there is no tomorrow. 

The intention was not getting lost in the crowd of nomads, rather to spot the most drunken handsome gay to take home with. 

Three he spotted but chose the one who looked the strongest, with the most muscle and whose eyes had the most predatory glare.

Sherlock's hips swung from one side to the other with the most grace as his dancers' legs rolled to reach the most muscular man of tonight and stood in front of him, blocking his view.

Sherlock waved his body wiggling his arse, following the rhythm of the music to please the man in front. The man surely enjoyed the lean beautiful man and his flirtatious dance . Sherlock made sure that there is no space in between them and very smoothly took the other man's palms and placed them on Sherlock's own arse cheeks. 

Although it was intentional, Sherlock's whole body shivered with terror and disgust when the man grabbed his behinds and rubbed himself against Sherlock's denim-clad-bulk. His hands started to knead Sherlock's arse and without a proper warning rose both his hands to give some quick and hard slaps on both of Sherlock's buttcheeks. This made Sherlock to lose his control over his feet and his body slammed hard against the other man's chest.This time the man grinded his chest against Sherlock's nipples and his dick harshly grinded Sherlock's groin without any mercy. 

Sherlock was getting mad at the feeling that someone's dick is mercilessly abusing his own, he is getting slapped brutally on his arse and is getting treated like a whore. 

But he had invited it. This is exactly what he needed to tempt John. Exactly that which would force John the show himself. All he has to do now is to bring this man home and act a little lovey-dovey for John. Just a little foreplay and John would come jumping from wherever he is. If in case John gets smarter enough to understand the lie of it, even then he will definitely come to save Sherlock from the brutal monster this man is. 

Sherlock took deep breaths to finally speak in the man's ear 'my place' to which he kicked Sherlock on the balls hard and the shock from the sudden attack felt much lesser than the immediate pain he felt.  
It felt like he is having a migraine inside his testicles.He immediately fell on the floor gathering the attention of the dancing crowd, holding his belly tight forcing pressure to the stomach muscles which had already started to feel like it's crumbling and that he has an upset stomach and as if he is about to defecate all over the floor. He keels over in pain as if he's about to birth his own testicles without an epidural. The only feasible remedy seemed like to curl up in a fetal position and grind his teeth in pain and anger.

Sweat ran over his face as he watched the man looking at him like a hawk , he had a grin on the side of his dark brown lips, but his face was red with both lust and anger 'I am not your whore' he said, 'You whore!' he spat.

This somehow brought Sherlock back to his senses. He cursed himself for the dangerous move he took and all he wanted now was to get himself out of this terrible place and away from all the judgy eyes and the man's evil glare.

He gathered himself and started limping towards the exit. He didn't look back but as soon as the music faded as he walked out and away from the disc, he heard footsteps that followed him all the way. 

Sherlock's heart stopped and for a moment he realized his mind wasn't clear enough to think anything other than the fear of getting raped. He started swallowing in anticipation and slowly turned his head around to see the same man obviously. 'I-' Sherlock stammered 'I-ddont!-want to ' 

''But you make me hungry'' he said ''if not horny'' he smirked.

The blunder he had made. 

'Please. I wasn't trying to insult you. I am sorry ' 

''But you surely are in a lot of pain lad. And you are mad at me...you are furious with anger. If I let you go today you will come again tomorrow for a payback. Won't you? How in my sound mind can I allow that?''

'I-I won't. I won't' Sherlock was cursing himself for his idiotic actions. Why there is no cab? Can he outrun this man, limping ? And the pain. The pain!

''I learned not to trust you richass twinks at a very young age. Now lad, you can take a cab or you can limp back to your house. I have a wife in my house and I am surely not spending my money buying a room for your limping ass. So I am gonna follow you whatsoever and I am gonna have you in t minus ten minutes. Reach your house before that because I won't mind a streetfuck."

Outrunning this man is impossible if he doesn't get a transport soon.Anything would do, anything with a wheel and a crowd.He started limping as fast as possible to search for a cab, while the man followed as promised.Begging him for mercy won't work now.It was Sherlock who started it and now the man wants to finish . If somehow he manages to take him to Baker Street,there will be John to save him. He has to go to Baker Street, or the police station, or Mycroft , any of the three. And John was his answer. He cursed himself for his foolishness but stuck to the plan whatsoever. 

Nothing, no cab, no bus! Not any transport,nothing! Just a dark night, a vacant street and the next probable rape victim with a mad rapist following him.

As the final minute arrived, Sherlock's eyes watered as he realized he should have taken the route to his brother's flat rather than resting his hopes on someone who is dead and who doesn't care. He stopped limping and stood steady. Preparing himself for the storm to come.

''Good boy !' the man said from behind 'Look how beautiful your body looks… Weak, hurt, lost, defeated. But you know the one thing which is making you more gorgeous ? Is that, you are still not ready for this, you are trying but you are failing. And I am gonna enjoy this beautiful you as long as I want. If you don't follow me now , I am gonna fuck you naked here in this very street. And then I am gonna keep your richass clothes and trust me when I say you'll put the stage on fire. Londoners will be very pleased to smack those arse if not whipping those perky nipples the first option '' 

Sherlock knew that he had lost the game, and following him is the only thing that could save him at least from the public humiliation. 

"So you want to get fucked here? Or are you gonna follow me" he smacked Sherlock's arse hard and repeated the question. When Sherlock didn't answer , he clutched Sherlock's curls and roughly pulled his hair back and repeated the same question.Slowly Sherlock nodded a yes.

In no minute a car came to take them and the man spent no time and started undressing Sherlock.As Sherlock resisted he choked Sherlock with one hand , and used another to undo Sherlock's own belt to tie Sherlock's arms with those. He pulled Sherlock's pants down. And started licking Sherlock's balls wetting the underpants Sherlock wore. This made Sherlock miserable. He had never allowed anyone other than John to touch him and this is not what he is used to. This is not how he had been treated earlier. He needs to free himself. He has to go. He needs an escape plan, but looked like he was already out of breath as the other man started stroking Sherlock's dick hard and without mercy.Before Sherlock could do anything, the car stopped. The driver came out and opened the door. Sherlock was ashamed,putting all his effort to cover himself to hide his nakedness from the driver, but the driver looked at Sherlock with the same lust as his master's and Sherlock shut his eyes closed to avoid the predatory glares.  
When the master pulled Sherlock out of the car, Sherlock wanted to die out of shame as he found himself standing in a lawn, abused and naked.

''Bring him inside" the master walked ahead leaving Sherlock with the driver.

'Help me' Sherlock begged to the driver.  
''Walk Dog'' the driver smacked Sherlock's arse and held Sherlock by the nape of his neck forcing him to walk till they reached the masters den.

"Prepare him " the master ordered. 

Soon Sherlock was on a bed , on his chest , both hands and legs chained on each side of the bed , the last touch, a ball gag. But before putting the gag on, the driver sat in front of Sherlock and very carefully admired the beauty of a scared , haunted, gorgeous victim. 'You are not gonna get a single kiss today Mister Holmes' and he pressed his dry manly lips against Sherlock's ignoring all the resistance from the other man. And as the driver's tongue destroyed John's last taste from Sherlock's mouth the master entered the room. 

"You started without us?" The master laughed.  
"Oh boy!" He slapped Sherlock's bare ass." Looks like you are quite popular among my friends detective " And before Sherlock knew, ten, if not more men took turns to shove Sherlock's arse and they kept on fucking Sherlock mercilessly and without any rest. After slapping him out of his sleep ,the fourth time he had passed out, they used pegs to keep Sherlock's eyes open refraining him from the rest he needed. While his eyes were pegged open and burning with pain, he kept his eyes fixed on the damped ceiling of that awful room and prayed for John to come and save him from the horror he is living in, till four of them blocked his view and took turns to fuck his mouth.

When they were done raping Sherlock, leaving him drenched in cum and piss,people exchanged suggestions of what to do with Sherlock now. Whether to keep him or not. If keeping him is the option then for how long? Or is it better to invite some other men right here right now to fuck him so much that he finally dies losing his breath.Or is it not the best to put a bullet on his head immediately and throw him on the Thames?  
Keeping Sherlock out and alive is the most dangerous game no one wanted to play.  
The driver had the best plans for Sherlock. He wanted to sell Sherlock to a dealer and share the money thus earned.  
Sherlock listened to them in horror, unable to speak through his gag. When the driver's plan got the most votes Sherlock screamed through the gag and threw his hands and legs to break the chains.

'Look ! He approves! ' the driver laughed.To which Sherlock started to panic and struggle more against the chains.

The master was awfully quiet. Although he had agreed to the driver's plan initially, as Sherlock struggled to escape he got up and sat on top of Sherlock, and started to mouthfuck the slave again When he reached orgasm he cummed on Sherlock's face and neck and chest again to add some wet strokes beside the ones that had already dried . He then simply took his phone out and took a snap of Sherlock's state.  
'Now!' he said. 'I will let you go lad. But If you ever try to tell anyone about last night or me, or this placeI I'll put hundreds and thousands of your naked posters all over London.' 

The master walked away from the room for a few minutes and walked back again with Sherlock's clothes. He threw the clothes at Sherlock's face and ordered the driver to undo the chains. 

Sherlock's hands trembled when he slid the clothes away from his face and people could see every bone in his body shaking with fear and trauma and pain when he sat enough to get dressed. 

When Sherlock got himself dressed again, the master opened the door of the room and stood by the side of the door with an escorting smile. 

Sherlock struggled to stand up. His entire body was under massive pain from the abuse. God! how he wanted to rest. But not here of course. He wouldn't miss the opportunity to walk away from a place where half of the people wants to shag him to death. Sherlock couldn't look at any of them in their eyes, rather as he walked towards the door people lost no opportunity to beat Sherlock's ass and humiliate him through words. He could hear the clicks of their phones.  
'wiggle that ass more' one said as he filmed Sherlock.

When Sherlock reached the door, the man blocked the exit and slipped some cash inside the pocket of Sherlock's belstaff. 'Thank you for your service' he grinned ' I'll teach you how to please your masters more,next time we meet. ' 

Sherlock looked at the master with both fear and rage , but helplessly enough walked out of the damned place without a word. 

Sherlock had no idea where they had kept him the whole night, but it wasn't a long way from the disc where it all started. He searched for his phone to call a cab. But the phone wasn't there and so he walked as long as his body allowed before finally giving up and sitting on the sidewalk. He stayed there looking vacantly at the road. He wasn't thinking about the night, he wasn't thinking about John's death, he wasn't thinking about John's spirit, the Ouija , the planchette, Rosie, Sherinford, the disc, the rape. He was letting himself to settle his breaths, feel the physical pain he had, to distract him from emotional torture that awaited. He just sat there breathing. In and out. In and out.

Sherlock realized exactly how long he sat there when the street light flickered on his face. It was already evening. He gathered himself and started walking. There was no life , no grace in the walk. He walked like a dead man. He stopped at a florist and bought John's favorite flowers with the money he earned for his service last night. 

Sherlock was finally home. He exchanged the dead flowers with the new one and lit a candle besides John's photograph.  
'This is the only place where I can see you on my reflection' Sherlock sighed. 'This is the last time I am trying John. Trying to contact you. If you don't show up, I will have my answer. I have tried every means to reach you, you never showed up. And then I tried to make you jealous by moving on , but it didn't go well. I am not fine John. I am in extreme pain and I need you badly. I can't do this anymore. I just want to see you one last time' Sherlock's eyes watered and his vision blurred ' I-please… one last time . The most merciful today proposed to put a bullet in my head and I agree with him. So , If I am standing here and asking you for a visit for this one time , because I want to wave you a final goodbye John!' 

Sherlock waited like he does, but this time too, John has managed to successfully live up to his reputation of disappointing Sherlock.

'Can't do this. Not alone .' Sherlock sobbed. Sherlock unlocked the shelf and brought John's sig out. 'Please..' Sherlock begged for one last time and put the gun against his head. 'So I suppose , you are not going to come. Alright then' Sherlock shut his eyes closed to remember one last time, the precious moments he had stored in his mind palace.  
'Afghanistan or Iraq'.'You are an idiot' 'you are my best friend' 'I love you Sherlock' revisited his mind. Tears escaped from his shut eyes as he squeezed them hard preparing himself to pull the trigger. 

'Stop' John's voice echoed in the room. Sherlock held his breath and immediately opened his eyes.  
It was John standing, on the same clothes he wore the day he died. He looked glorious, like a god , he looked majestic. Sherlock feigned a smile.'Thought you'd be more delighted to see me ' John said , concern all over his face

''I have been feigning smile since you died, now I think I have forgotten how to smile without faking it. Real or Hallucination?"

'What do you think?'

"You are beautiful."

'The sig!' 

"Yeah. My last resort" he smiled again.

'Ohkay!' John gave the permission. 

''Sure?" 

'I thought you could live without me. But you can't. So yes! It's okay. Stop punishing yourself. I am not real Sherl. You made me up. To punish yourself. You have been lying to yourself since the first game. No one was there outside the door. But you desperately wanted it to be me. So you hallucinated me at the morgue. That day when you were sick, you hallucinated me again, you hallucinated everything. They were right when the said you had a psychotic break, I wasn't inside your body, I was always inside your head. But you crossed the line last night, and how I know this ? I know this because I am you and you know that. Right?'

"At least I have survived more than what people thought I could without John. So Mycroft was right indeed? I am mad! But nobody will know now. Thanks for coming in the last minute. Real or Hallucination, Goodbye John Watson. " 

Sherlock pointed the sig at John . 'I love you' John smiled.''I love you too" Sherlock pulled the trigger. The first bullet went through John's image and got stuck in the Baker Street wall. The final one went right through his own head painting the Baker Street red with blood. 

When Sherlock opened his eyes the next time,he saw his body lying dead on the floor.  
'You moron' Sherlock turned around to see John floating in the air like a feather. 'yes congratulations Sherlock , you too are a ghost now'

Sherlock smiled at the eye roll John gave. A genuine smile. ' So…?'

John flew to Sherlock and held Sherlock's hands to help him float. 'So...now , we fly'

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading.


End file.
